


Back from Deployment: Ashton Irwin Oneshot

by orphan_account



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: F/M, Multi, Other, army ashton, army deployment, fighter ashton, military recruit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 12:43:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3570140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a while. He was deployed, and you were left. 6 months. 6 months without his touch or kiss. But now, the gruelling wait is over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back from Deployment: Ashton Irwin Oneshot

**Author's Note:**

> Bold Italic:Y/N / Italic:Ashton.

5 hours. Only 5 hours left.

The thought refused to leave your mind, a mixture of anxiety, relief and excitement growing from the pit of your stomach, the postive vibes only to be met by the empty half of the bed. The warmth you had suddenly felt from the prospect of today turned cold and dull, recurring thoughts about today’s events causing your morning to start off in a nervous manner. A quiet sigh left your lips once you read the time on your phone: 9:50am, as you practically forced yourself out of the comfort of your bed sheets, your feet pressing down against the cold hardwood floor.

It’s been a long 6 months of not having him by your side. It was as if ever since he left, your routine was disrupted, and the days continued to feel empty without him. He wasn’t there to kiss you good morning, or good night. The boiling hot water of a bath wouldn’t provide you with the same comforting warmth of his body: bodies pressed together, as the tensions from the days events would gradually subside with the soothing tone of his voice, assuring you that tomorrow would be better. No one was there to hug you when you needed it the most, especially during the events where daunting thoughts were plastered in your mind.

Throughout the deployment, you noticed a major difference. Your eyes lacked spirit and optimism, instead replaced by heavy shadows that rimmed around your eyes, showing the exhaustion from sleepless nights that were full of quiet, hot tears that trailed ruthlessly down your cheeks. The days always consisted of boring activities to try and keep your mind at bay, from housework to homework. But it was as if throughout the prolonged period of time, he was there next to you in some way. When there was no light in your mind, you could hear his voice. A hushed whisper, telling you that he will be back soon, content in your arms. Time just never seemed to agree with you: a mere few minutes felt like hours every time you decided to check the clock that hung on the plain grey walls alone. Your jaw would always clench, a spark of frustration flaring in your heart that made small shivers travel down your spine, the experience of waiting now even more difficult. All you wanted was him back home, where he belonged.

It was now 10:30am, and after you completed the steps that made up your morning routine, you decided to do something that the you of the past would have never expected, or wanted. Before Ashton stepped out of the door to fight, he left you a small box that sat patiently at the top of your bed. He was contemplating handing it to you in person, but he knew inside that if he did, it would only end in him walking out of the front door with his head down low, your heart in a painful ache, as if it shattered inside slightly. Ashton never told you what the box contained, but you always had a small idea as to what lay inside the wrapped cardboard. He was the boy who loved to express himself through words, composing different love letters for you whenever the opportunity arose. However, the words written in his messy handwriting for this were bittersweet, which is why you put it away for something more significant than a rainy day.

After a small rummage through your wardrobe, your eyes caught the attention of wrapping paper, knowing well that was it. And swiftly grabbing it, you quietly tiptoed on your bare feet, wanting to savour the silence. Usually, silence was defeaning, but at this very moment it comforted you, giving you a slight amount of ease as you placed the box on the slightly creased white sheets, you gently sitting down afterwards. Throughout the 6 months alone, a voice restricted you from doing this, but a small urge told you that a small weight would instantly lift from your shoulders. It was the only thing left of him at this very moment. There was a small debate in your mind, even though you knew that Ashton would have wanted you to do this. The silence was disrupted by a harsh blow of the wind, tree branches knocking on the glass windows as your hands tore apart the paper, finally lifting the lid to reveal what lay inside.

A comforting feeling engulfed your cold flesh from the scent of his cologne, the warm notes of musk and amber intoxicating your mind as you gently picked up the stack of letters that lay inside the now empty box. Ashton always had a side to him he only expressed with you: he always revelled in what he had from his childhood. It was evident right now, as he decorated the white envelopes with his favourite stickers, reminding you of his love for Thomas the Tank Engine and Dragon Ball Z. An instinctive giggle left your lips, probably the first sign of happiness for a while. It was at this point where you finally came to terms with what was going on. The desolate feelings you had developing inside of you were now at its peak as your eyes watered, vision becoming slightly blurry from the salty tears you failed to fight off, now quickly streaming down your cheeks as you continued to let them fall. You felt weak, as if the barrier that you had came crashing down into pieces, and it couldn’t be repaired. The letters he wrote were stained with your tears, the first of 5 envelopes damp, and the ink slightly smudged. It scared you that this particular letter was at the top, and you were slightly thankful that it’s condition now wasn’t as immaculate:

'Open me if I don't return.'

Your fingertips pressed gently against the cardboard box, lightly tapping as you continued to contemplate whether you should continue to look at the rest, your cheeks stained with tears as the outpour of every emotion you felt now subsiding. The strong pain you faced from the excessive amount of stress in the side of your head also eased, giving you a feeling of peace from the reminder you were giving yourself every minute of every day.

He is back home today.

And with that, your mind started to drift into its own thoughts, falling into a daydream about the impending reunion, desperately wishing for the images that your imagination provided, to finally become a reality. Light breaths would escape his lips from the moment you opened the mahogany door, the brass door knob twisting to reveal an exhausted and bruised Ashton. He would be fragile from the exhausting 6 months in the desert, hands still sore and red. But that would never stop him from holding you tightly in his arms again. His hands would rub light cricles across your back, providing you with the ease and comfort you desperately needed. Heavy exhales of his hot breath would cascade onto the supple flesh of your neck, arms spindled around your waist as the two of you stood there, in peace. He would finally wake up to a pair of eyes admiring him in the morning, as the sunrise would emit a warm array of colours that lit up your bedroom. Your eyes were what he loved the most: effervescent jewels that hid love and passion that he could finally look into again. He would finally be back to where he truly belongs: with you.

Your peaceful slumber was disturbed by a ring of the doorbell, an instant wave of confusion settling in as you took yourself out of your daze. With your bare feet travelling out of the bedroom and down the staircase, you swiftly opened the door to find the biggest surprise. He was standing there: clad in his camoflague, arms open for your embrace. His hair was tied back into a bun, a black elastic securing his hair into place. Stubble decorating his mouth and chin, with slightly tanned skin from the exposure to sweltering desert heat.

The two of you mirrored each others expression: you were speechless. It was the moment you were waiting for, for a searing 6 months. All of the stress that you felt instantly disappeared into the air, like smoke as you leaped into his embrace, your hands holding onto him as tightly as they possibly could. No words were exhanged, but nothing needed to be said. Actions spoke louder than words, but after a elongated hug, he finally spoke, his voice de-stressing you:

_'Told you i'd come back.'_

And with that, he finally kissed you. Your mouth revelled in the taste of his lips, pressing against yours as if they were made for each other. His mouth demanded yours: and all you can do when he kisses you back is hold onto his rugged biceps, trying your upmost hardest to give something back. The force against you slowly reduced you to a whimpering mess, more desperate for his touch than you ever thought. He left the flesh of your lips red and puffy, mirroring the state of his own from the intense kissing, oxygen not a necessity as he left your lips and proceeded onto your neck.

You could feel the light touch of his hands trace the outline of your waist, gently running over your hips before placing a firm hold, swiftly kicking the door shut. The rough closing of the solid wood door emitted a loud ‘bang’ from the force his army boots applied, Ashton now perfectly able to divert his entire attention to you, without the annoying voices and the odd wolf whistle of the outside world. His lips peppered light feathery kisses along your neck. He was exhaling heavily, hot breaths gently hovering over your neck as his mouth found it’s way over to your collarbone, firmly sucking before looking back up at you:

_'I missed this. A lot.'_

You couldn’t help but feel a small tinge of guilt hit your heart. You missed him too, but Ashton was never the one to express his emotions in this manner. It was as if talking face-to-face was a fear he always had, and now he was able to overcome it. The upset was evident in his voice, the tone slightly raspy, but mainly quiet as he sucked in a harsh breath in order to stop the impending outpour of tears.

But he couldn’t do it. His vision blurred for a moment before allowing tears to stream freely down his cheeks, reminding you of the pain you dealt with for the past 6 months. Knowing how ruthless the army was, Ashton finally had the freedom to expose his more vulnerable side to you.

_**'Hey. Ashton look at me.'** _

Your pointer finger gently pressed underneath his chin, his face now facing yours. You cooed quietly, the image in front of you one that you never expected to ever witness as you wiped away his tears with the gentle touch of your thumbs. The firm grip he had on your waist lightened, but only to bring you closer to the soothing warmth of his body. You were now able to observe every feature that brought together his beautiful face. From every small hair that formed the scruff covering his mouth, to the divet of each of his dimple whevener he smiled. It accompanied the physical appearance of his body; the gruelling extent of his training evident through the large muscles that stretched the material of his khaki top, as well as his considerably well built thighs.

_**'You're back with me. I missed you too. I’m here.'** _

Every fear that consumed his body throughout his time in the field seemed to fade away from your voice. You could see his arms relax; tension now relieved as he continued to envelop you in his touch, the smell of his signature cologne intoxicating your mind. Usually, silent moments would make you feel uncomfortable. The awkwardness of an empty room would make your skin crawl, with you wishing that it would be over as soon as possible. This time, however, was different. Nothing could replace the ease you felt of having him back in your arms. An agonising six months spent in the desert now over, forming memories he can talk to his future grandchildren about whilst huddled around a toasty fire.

It was now your time to cry, as his top was now starting to produce small stains with your tears, but he just let you cry it out. There was nothing else that he could do, and knowing that you spent 6 months without him, and he understood why. And pulling you even closer into his touch, which you didn’t think was possible, he quietly whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his hands gently running through the sleek strands of your hair.

_'Told you I would come back to you.'_

His attention diverted back to your face, as the apples of your cheeks continued to flush a rosy red from the sudden rush of heat you felt across your face. His tongue gently travelled across his bottom lip, skimming across the already wet flesh, as the large duffle bag that hung loosely on his shoulders dropped onto the cold hardwood floors. The sound shook you slightly, but the slight tense feeling in your muscles eased from the attachment of his puffy lips onto yours. You could feel the beat of your heat raise in pace, the sound of pounding beats audible to yours, and possibly Ashtons’ ears. His hands now travelled back down to the curve of your waist: his favourite place to touch you. But the distance that separated the two of you was practically less than an inch as the grip on your waist tightened yet again, the pressure applied proving the work that he put out on the field. The large surface area of his palm was rough: calloused pads of his fingers gently pressing into your hips, as your kiss swollen lips moved in synchronisation with his.

A pair of lips that were unfamiliar, yet familiar to you now moulding together perfectly with yours, harmonising together, as your hands instinctively moved towards his neck. The soft, and gentle palms of your hands pressed against the tense skin of his neck, relaxing instantly from your tender touch, your lips quirking upwards from his reaction. His hands now transferred from your waist, to your hair: long fingers weaving through the silky strands before gently tugging. The small force elicited a light moan from you, allowing him to continue further as the small ‘o’ shape your mouth formed gave him good access to introduce the skills of his tongue that always made you weak in your knees, as the patially heavy scruff on his cheeks pressed further into the lower half of your face.

_'I'm going to make you feel so good. It will be as if I never left you.'_

He spoke through heaving lungs, heavy breaths escaping his lips as small baby hairs along his forehead were matted from the slight sweat.

_'Well, we do need to make up for lost time.'_

 


End file.
